Thanks For The Memories
by Brooklynnx
Summary: SpiderMan has amnesia and can't remember a thing. The Sinister Six are still at large and the only hope has memory loss. With the help of the Black Cat, Fantastic Four and SHIELD the city's only chance is for him to remember...but will anything work?END!
1. The Awakening

"Huh? Where...am I...?" he moaned, waking from an unpleasant sleep. Spider-Man sat up on the bed he had found himself on and surveyed the room. One weak light lit his dim surroundings, the reflection showing the walls were made of some sort of steel or metal. There were no windows, and the door seemed extremely thick.

Spider-Man went to scratch his aching back, but found his hands restrained. The handcuffs locked around the entire lower arm, all the way to the elbow. The hands were locked inside the handcuffs, instead of outside like what was customary. Spider-Man titled his restraints, trying to read the small lettering on the side. It read: **Property of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

"S.H.I.E.L.D.! I know Nick Fury has something to do with this! Where the heck am I, anyway?" he said aloud. He waited, sitting on the lumpy cot, for something to happen.

Suddenly the room, which was barley larger than an office cubicle, shook violently, and Spider-Man was thrown against a back wall. He then realized he was most likely flying in the Hellicarrier, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s main method of transportation. But where would they be taking him, and why?

Spider-Man stood once the turbulence subsided and banded both of his joined fists on the hard door.

"Hello? Anyone out there? E.T. wantsta phone home! Come on!"

His call remained unanswered for several minutes as he sat on his cot. Then a small, rectangular viewing hole at the top of the pale door slid open, and two hard eyes peered down on him.

"Howya doin?" Spider-Man said. "Mind telling me what the heck's going on around here?"

"Colonel Fury has given orders to his men not to disturb you unless it is to tell you to shut up. So, shut up."

"Can't you just let me know why I'm here? That seems fair, doesn't it, pal?"

The eyes vanished as the opening was slammed shut. Spider-Man groaned and tried to lie on the bed, but it was too uncomfortable to focus on sleep. As if he _could _sleep on a night like this. He tired to fumble with his restraints, but they seemed even more unlikely to break off the more he did so.

The door rattled as the dark eyes appeared again, silent and staring.

"Back for more interesting conversation? You pick the topic, being trapped in this room really messes with my head."

"If you promise to cooperate, Fury says you can see him."

"If you think I would cooperate, then why am I locked in a room with handcuffs?" Spider-Man snapped.

"Good point. Just, don't do anything stupid, Spider-Man."

"Me? Stupid? Wow, you can read my mind! What color am I thinking of?"

The door opened as the solider appeared in the standard S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. He carried a large, long weapon leaning against his left shoulder. He motioned for Spider-Man to stand up.

"Can we please take these things off? I have a reputation, you know."

"No can do." The guard said as they started down the corridor.

"God, I hate you people. No offense."

"None taken. This way please, to the main control room."

"Yay for me. I get a private tour." Spider-Man moaned. He felt anger boil up inside of him, ready to blow over at any moment. What on earth did Fury want with him? What did he do, and why the hell was he in handcuffs!?! Spider-Man felt the soldier's gaze upon him as he made his way, and he felt humiliated. He sighed and calmed down, ready to find out what this was all about.


	2. What Lies Ahead

"Spider-Man, sir." the guard said, shoving Spider-Man to the center of the room. He grimaced, standing in the spoltlight that caused him to squint. He regarded Nick Fury, the head honcho of his abduction, for sure, with bitterness.

"Spider-Man. I take it you know." Fury said. His eye-patch gave Spider-Man a sudden chill, his bold, stern face not showing any compassion.

"Know? All I know is some idiot decided to kidnap me. What the heck happened, anyway?" He said, rubbing his head which had suddenly started to throb.

"You don't recall? Fair enough. I guess they wouldn't call it _amnesia_ if you remember what happened."

"Say what? I remember everything!" He said, unsure of what he was being told. What was Fury going on about? Of course he remembered! He remembered Mary Jane and Uncle Ben, Aunt May and Jameson...of course he remembered being Spider-Man!

"Only short-term, I guess. Tell me, do you remember who Doctor Octavius is, also known as Doctor Octopus? He's the guy that caused your memory loss. What about Electro? Mysterio? Venom?"

The names cut through Spider-Man like razors, and he felt that each one was full of an unleashed evil. But he could not remember. He could not place any faces with the names being thrown at him. He felt empty all of a sudden, and ashamed, for a reason still unknown to him.

"We knew it was amnesia right away, so we took the liberty of taking you here to make sure that you didn't go home not knowing you were Spider-Man. I apologize for the...fogginess of the situation, Spider-Man."

"Okay. I have amnesia. Whoop-de-doo. But why do you care. I remember you, Fury, and I'm not buying it." He said, motioning at his restrained hands.

"As you guessed, I am not babysitting you for good karma. The Sinister Six is still rampaging around New York City. Do you remember them?"

"I'm guessing they're a group of six guys who are...sinister?"

Nick Fury wiped his face with an impatient hand. "I wish you would have forgotten how to be so stupid. Now, Spider-Man, what do you remember?"

"I remember that I'm Spider-Man...I remember that I'm hated by Jameson, that's gotta account for something."

"Your memory is vital to the success of this mission. You know the Sinister Six more than anyone, what do you remember about the members?"

Spider-Man thought. He became frustrated, because he could not remember. Who was Doctor Octopus? He sounded like a brilliant man, though malicious. Spider-Man sighed, letting Colonel Nick Fury know exactly how much he remembered.

"Spider-Man, this may not be pretty to watch, but I am going to show you the battle that caused your memory loss. Tell me as soon as anything clicks, understood?"

"Sure, Fury." Spider-Man said. A screen rolled down from a far wall, and Fury came out with a remote. With one click of a button the lights dimmed and the television blinked on. It took a moment or two for it to find the connection, but then the feed started rolling.

Spider-Man was in the middle of Times Square--he could see that much. He was standing alone, looking stressed and prepared. Suddenly a big metal arm reached onto the screen and grabbed Spider-Man by leg. He flipped in the air, getting electrocuted by some foolish looking man with a starfish mask. Spider-Man watched himself get clobbered, he watched himself face villains he supposeably has known for years, but watched them like they were complete strangers.

Spider-Man felt uneasy. How could this happen? How could he not remember who these megalomaniacs were? They seemed very dangerous and hateful, hateful towards him. They wanted to kill him! They wanted to kill him and he didn't remember why!

Once the short video ended, Spider-Man looked at Nick Fury with glassy eyes under his mask. He looked at his handcuffs, he looked at everyone in the room, then he looked at his reflection from the shiny floor.

"Fury...am I a good guy or a bad guy?"

Stopping himself from making a remark about what people like Jameson said about him, he simply stated, "You're a hero, Wallcrawler. A superhero."

"Right. Just...checking..." he paused, his mind lost in a ramble of different thoughts. He looked up from the floor. "Right. So...now what?"

Fury sighed. "I'm not sure, Spider-Man. I really just don't know..."


	3. In The Hovercraft

Spider-Man crouched on the wall, his head pounding and sweating underneath his mask. He wanted to fix its position on his face, but the restraints on his hands prevented him from doing so. How could this happen? He had lives to save and bad guys to stop, and he couldn't remember a thing. Nick Fury filled him in on everything, that the Six had planned a Week of Terror just to spite Spider-Man, and now here he was, not sure why they wanted to spite him.

"Where do we even start, Fury?" Spider-Man said, of course, referring to his memory.

Fury simply shifted his head. "I say we try other superhumans. Captain America. Fantastic Four. Even the Hulk, for God's sake. We'll start with anyone who can help you remember. It's critical to the operation that you do."

Spider-Man frowned. "An operation? Is that all this is to you? Six of the world's craziest men are out there and I can't do a thing about it. They dedicated a whole week to make my life a living hell, and I can't do a thing about it!"

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me, Spider-Man."

He jumped from off the wall, landing five feet from Fury's current position. "Then who the hell am I gonna raise it at?"

Fury grimaced. "You shut your mouth and listen, you hear me? This is not a time for your immature games, your wise cracks, your attitude. This is a serious time, Spider-Man, and you will do what I say without argument, is that clear? I know how frustrating it is for you right now, but act like your age and deal with it!"

Spider-Man froze. Fury was right, though he hated to admit it. There was no use being angry. But that didn't mean he had to trust him.

"Who are we starting with, then?" Spider-Man said, his voice full of poison.

"I say we start with the Fantastic Four. I updated them about the situation via fax. I'm sure they'll be willing to help. In any case, we could use their help against the Six."

"What if I can't remember how to be Spider-Man? What if I freeze up and forget how to fight, how to webswing?"

"You remember doing that? See, there's progress. Come, we'll escort you to the Baxter Building. I'll inform you on the Six on our way."

Spider-Man sighed. "I'll accept your help. I appreciate it, Fury. This isn't going to be easy."

A sign of their new bitter truce, Fury pulled out a key, walked over to Spider-Man and unlocked his handcuffs. Spider-Man felt the circulation flowing back into his wrists. He sighed. "Thanks. Though I dunno why you needed them."

"Nothing personal, I know that you're more-or-less on our side. But it was just in case you...thought you weren't."

Spider-Man understood, but he still didn't like the fact that he wasn't trusted. He wasn't used to receiving it and he didn't expect to. His area of work, and where he stood in it, was always questioned and never for certain. But he didn't care. Spider-Man followed Fury into the Launch Bay where a small hovercraft awaited them. As it took off from the Helicarrier, Fury cleared his throat, ready to begin filling Spider-Man in.

"Mysterio, known for his illusions and special effects. Turned evil after acting didn't work out for him.

Chameleon. Can change his guise using complex masks and such.

Electro. Powerful but stupid, so to speak. Electricity is his superpower, and he's potentially a city-killer, blowing up blocks just to prove a point.

Vulture. Old, but deadly. Has a green flying suit with sharp razors, could sever a man in half.

Venom. You must remember him--wears the same black suit that once attached itself to you. He took the place of the Sandman after he reformed. Nasty one, this guy.

The there is Doctor Octopus. One of the deadliest men alive, endangers people on a global scale. Has six metal arms, considered indestructable. He's considered worse than the other five put together."

Spider-Man sighed. All this wasn't very encouraging, and none of it sparked any memories. Hopefully the Fantastic Four would help. He remembered them--nice people, knew he was good at heart. Maybe they could help...maybe...


	4. The Fantastic Four

The Fantastic Four were waiting on the roof of the Baxter Building when the hovercraft landed on the helipad. Seeing there faces, Spider-Man felt an uncertainty about him--they seemed so close, but so unfamiliar.

Spider-Man wasn't sure how to greet them as they walked towards him. Was he on a hug basis with them, or would a handshake do. He decided to let them pick. Turns out, it wasn't even a handshake. They nodded as they greeted him, like heartless soldiers. Was he like that? Was he just a quick nod hello, then right to business?

"Fury. Thank you for brining him here. We'll help him in any way we can."

"I know you will, thanks Richards." Fury said to Mr. Fantastic. Spider-Man stood there, unsure of what to do. As he watched Fury depart he looked at them, his face confused under his mask.

"Spidey. What's going on? Do you remember me?" It was Johnny Storm, the Human Torch. Spider-Man analyzed him, and his brain throbbed.

"I think so..." then suddenly a spark flared inside his mind. It was as if he was his normal self again. Not being able to control it, his slapped Johnny a high-five. "Matchstick! How's it goin'? Ben, Sue, Reed! What's going on?"

"I think he just remembered us...Spider-Man, where are you?" Susan Storm asked him.

Spider-Man looked around. "Why you askin' me? It's your place, isn't it?"

The Thing smiled. "Spidey, do you have any idea what's going on?"

"Fury told me something about the Six, right? I--wait...where am I?"

Their faces were long and sorrowful. He had been so close--he had been there! And now he was gone.

"Spider-Man. Do you remember the Six?"

He nodded. "Not much about them though. Fury said you were going to help me remember."

"You remember us?" Mr. Fantastic asked.

"Kinda. It's a little foggy...but...I do. Not a lot. But I remember you guys."

"Spider-Man, we're very close friends of yours. We know who you are, we want to help you. I think it's a good idea to bring Mary Jane here, you remember who she is?"

"Of course I remember her. My memory loss is short-term, nothing serious." 

"That's why I don't understand why you can't remember the members of the Six. You've known them throughout your entire career."

Spider-Man shrugged. "Hey, can I see if I know how to webswing?" And without their permission, he was off. They watched him find his comfort zone with his sticky weblines, and they watched as he vanished into the concrete canyons of the city. They waited. He did not return.


	5. A Spark

Spider-Man did not know why he did not turn back.

He needed all the help he could possibly get, but he just needed to be alone. He needed to find himself. He needed Mary Jane.

He remembered her so well, he remembered how much he loved his wife and how she was always there supporting him. Was she aware of what was going on? Spider-Man gulped as he found his way to their small apartment in Queens.

He had forgotten how fast he could move, and how stealthy he could be. He was on rooftops with the owners in the front of the yard without them noticing. He was in Queens within five minutes of leaving the Baxter Building. On his way home, he passed the Brooklynn Bridge.

His head pounded as he passed the bridge, and he had to land on a rooftop to control himself. He looked at it, and he heard a woman scream. He heard someone's crooked laughter. He heard his own pain. Something happened there. Something big happened there, that changed his entire life. But he could not remember.

He stood there, staring at the magnificent structure. With rage throughout his body, he slammed his fists on the ground, crouched, and breathed in deeply. Why couldn't he remember?

"Hey, Spider." said a womans voice. It was strangely familiar, and he stood and turned around to see who had addressed him. She was a woman, with long, light hair, waring black leather and...cat ears. Spider-Man knew who she was...he knew that she was someone who was important to him. He stared at her, and she stood there, unsure of why he was looking so deeply at her.

"Spider?"

"You...I...I know you..."

"I would think so!" she laughed.

Spider-Man grinned underneath his mask. "Black Cat! Black Cat!" He smiled, ran up and hugged her. He twirled her in the air, spinning around, shouting, "I remember! I remember you!"

"Whoa, whoa, put me down! Thank you, now, what's this about remembering me?"

Spider-Man explained his situation to her. She nodded and gasped and apologized for him, understanding how hard it must be for the wallcrawler. Spider-Man sighed finally. "And I looked at the bridge...I know something went down there...I just can't remember! God, this is so annoying! I can't remember anything! And then...and then you came. And I...I recognized you. Cat, I know who I am right now. I remember...you were a thief at first, right? And I...we had a little flirty-thing going on...and then...the bridge..."

The Black Cat put her gloved hand on his shoulder as they both stared at it. "Does the name Gwen Stacy ring a bell?"

Spider-Man spun around to look at her again faster than the speed of sound. He found himself holding both her arms. He didn't know why he reacted the way he did. He let go of her and backed away. "Yeah," he managed, "it rings a bell."

"You...you loved her, Spider-Man. The Green Goblin took her on the top of that bridge, right there. She was knocked out, or already dead. You went to save her, you did everything you could. She fell off the top. You spun a web, you caught her ankle. You reeled her up and she was--"

"Dead." he interrupted.

She nodded. "Yeah."

Spider-Man sighed. "I remember that. I remember holding her...she was so cold, so pale. Her eyes...they were so still..." He was surprised to find his eyes tear, and he wanted to take off his mask to wipe his eyes, but was afraid that she didn't know who he really was underneath. He didn't remember that much, though he wanted to...


	6. Mary Jane

"Mary Jane?" Spider-Man called, halfway through the window. He prayed he had the right house.

"Tiger!" Her voice hurt his head; it was so warm and welcoming. In came the redhead, her big eyes gleaming, her lipgloss sparkling. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he stepped inside the apartment.

"How's my favorite husband?"

He didn't answer her.He studied her, trying to remember. His brain frantically searched for memories so he could twirl her in the air and say he loved her more than anyone else in the entire world. But he couldn't. He had been so sure he would remember her--he had been positive he would recognize her! But he didn't. She seemed like a long-lost friend he hadn't seen in years.

Mary Jane knew suddenly that something was wrong. He wasn't being funny, or anything like his normal self. She backed away and looked at him, too.

"Peter? Is everything okay?"

"Not really, Mary Jane. Something...happened. Have you been watching the news?"

She shook her head. "I was at an audition. What happened?"

He sighed. "I have amnesia...some things I remember...some things I don't. And I...I don't remember you."

Mary Jane's eyes were wide with disbelief. "Petey, it's me. MJ! You have to remember me!"

Spider-Man moved closer to a mirror and looked at his masked face. He then pulled his mask off. He did not recognize the man who was facing him in the reflection.

"What did you call me?"

"Peter. Peter Parker! You work as a photographer...you must remember!"

Peter sighed. "I don't...I mean...Jameson--he hates me, right? And then I'm a member of the Avengers...kinda...but...how did Uncle Ben die? I don't remember...I don't..."

Mary Jane wiped a tear from her eye. This was devastating! She smiled. "Hey, for better or for worse, right?"

Spider-Man didn't know what to say. What could he say...he didn't even remember his own wife! Who the hell was he...Peter Parker? That sounded like such a loser comic-book name. What the hell was next, Clark Kent?

Spider-Man didn't want to face his wife again. He sighed, telling her that he had to try some other methods to regain what memory he had lost, before the Sinister Six attacked again.

"Your Uncle was shot, Pete. You could've stopped the man, but you didn't. It was early in your days as a superhero...Aunt May just got ill. You recited words from _Peter Pan _as she died in her bed. They both loved you very much, and you loved them."

Spider-Man put his mask back on. He left via the window from which he entered. He could hear Mary Jane's cries as he headed through the concrete canyons of the city.


	7. Surrounded

Spider-Man smilied.

He remembered webswining, oh yes he remembered that. He loved the familiar sensation of being propelled from his own webs, of being above everyone else. He would have loved to drop everything and just spend the rest of his life swinging wherever he chose to go, but he knew life wasn't so simple.

And the thing about being Spider-Man meant that he could not be happy in his peace and quiet for too long.

That was when all hell broke loose.

Spider-Man got a sharp, tingling sensation in the back of his head. He knew what it was...but what did it mean? His spider-sense...wait--he remembered! It meant that something was wrong...

He felt two sharp hands dig into his shoulders, lifting him up into the air as he hung helpless. He looked up at his captor and saw the Vulture--the one Fury had spoken of. Spider-Man looked into his dead eyes...he knew this man...he hated this man...

"You! Uh, you put--put me down!"

"What, no wise cracks this time?" 

"Why would I be funny now?"

The Vulture stopped, stared at him, but the continued his flight path. Spider-Man didn't have to be a genius to see that the Vulture would soon drop him on a nearby rooftop, the one where the other five members of the Six were waiting in a circle. Spider-Man saw all of them--and not one did he remember. How the hell could he do this?

Spider-Man dropped, rolled, and stood as the Vulture filled the empty spot in the circle.

"Uh, hi guys. Is it too late to be friends?"

No one spoke. Spider-Man stood there uneasily, unsure of how to handle himself. What would he do--who would he attack--where would he run?

"I suppose the old I-Have-A-Wife-And-Kids routine wouldn't work here, huh?"

"Silence!" Doctor Octopus finally spoke. "Something is wrong. You're not Spider-Man. Spider-Man does not...try to talk himself out of situations like this."

Vulture nodded. "He didn't give me his wise-ass attitude."

"Something's up." Venom agreed.

Spider-Man didn't know what to say. Could he tell six of his greatest enemies that he did not remember them? Could he brush it off and try to fight them? No, he would surely die--he didn't remember any of their tactics, their strategies.

"Ha...now that you mention it..." Spider-Man began. "I...don't remember you guys. I take it we're not friends..."

He looked at their faces. Maybe he could use this to his advantage.

"Yeah. See..you, Octopus Man. You hit me in the head and...I have amnesia. SHIELD tried to help but I'm trying to recover on my own. Sorry--I mean, heh...wow, this is awkward, huh?" 

"You don't remember us?" Electro asked.

"Not...really. I mean, Nick Fury told me your names and stuff...but I don't really..."

Venom grinned. "We are the ones who can make your life a living hell."

"Oh. That's...nice..."

"And we plan to do it...whether you remember us or not..."


	8. As It Began

Spider-Man felt the tingling sensation in the back of his head again, but he didn't know where the attack would come from. He was surrounded by people who wanted to shred him limb from limb.

Spider-Man did not remember anything that could help him. And as he watched a metal arm belonging to Doctor Octavius come towards him, he jumped out of the way only to be grabbed by another. He dangled, the metal arm hoisting him up by his ankle.

"Put him down!" Someone yelled. Spider-Man was relived to see the familiar outline of the Black Cat standing in the center of the circle where he had been. Spider-Man waved. Spider-Man saw her, and then a spark shot through him. It was as if he knew exactly how to handle himself.

Spider-Man threw himself into the air and sprayed webbing in the Doctor's eyes, knowing that'd he'd let go and fling him towards the Vulture.

"Sorry, Vulchie!" He cried, kicking off of his chest and heading towards Electro. The Black Cat had sprung into action as well, taking on Mysterio and his illusions.

Spider-Man felt great as he punched the Chameleon's lights out. "I think I remember!"

"Really?" the Cat said, leaping into the air to avoid a blow from Venom.

"I do...I think I know how to do this--Venom--I really don't like him, right?"

"Right." Venom hissed, leaping towards him. "Come here! We want to feel your bones shatter to remind us how much we hate you!"

"Gee, I think you're remembering just fine without my help."

Spider-Man felt great, and as he leaped out of the way of an electric blast from Electro, he saw a great fireball flying towards him. This was soon identified as none other than Johnny Storm, aka the Human Torch.

"Hey, Flame-For-Brains! The Six is right here, call Fury!"

"Already did! How's the head, Webs?" he said as he landed.

Spider-Man knocked on his forehead. "Never better! Oh shoot--I remember! I told Mary Jane I didn't know who she was!"

The Human Torch joined in the fight, speaking with Spider-Man as they exchanged enemies. "Fury wants to talk to you--about the memory loss."

"I--whoa, not today, Sparky--figured. It just hit me all of a sudden, like I remembered it just all at once--Jeez, that was close."

Spider-Man turned around to face Doc Ock again when he saw the Black Cat lying on the ground before him. Spider-Man felt an eruption of panic and he screamed as he ran over to her. Blood was running from her nose, and it seemed that she'd broken an arm. Spider-Man quickly stared at Doctor Octopus, and suddenly his head hurt. The room started to spin, and faded images were flying past him. Gwen. Uncle Ben. Norman Osborn. Harry. Mary Jane. Aunt May.

Spider-Man picked up the Cat, dodging a blow from Octavius as he did so, and made sure she had time for a breather. He knew it was time to do what he did best--beating the tar out of those who caused him so much pain.


	9. Assurance

Doctor Octopus was known for his metal arms; their strength, their liveliness, everything. They were a part of him, and they knew how to work with their owner.

Spider-Man knew better than to attack these arms, as their pincers had harmed him in the past and caused a lot of damage. But today Spider-Man did not care. He wanted revenge.

"Oh, Ockie Poo!"

His voice pierced Octopus's ears, and he turned around to see Spider-Man, standing five feet away from him. His hands were on his hips, and he seemed content with himself.

"Thank you so much for hitting me in the head and giving me a well-deserved vacation. But, come on, how could I ever forget you and those beautiful eyes of yours?"

"Spider-Man. It's always jokes with you! Always! We'll see who's laughing at the end of this."

"For one of the world's smartest men, you're really quite stupid. I don't care about the Six. I don't care about you, about Venom--any of this!"

"Then what do you care about?"

"It's doing the right thing. See, stopping goofballs like you--that's the right thing. Even if I don't remember--which I do. Seeing your ugly face sparked a lifetime of memories."

Doctor Octopus screamed, and the fight began.

The Black Cat had been watching as she entered the fight again. She'd been observing as she kicked Mysterio in the gut. She had been making sure Spider-Man was able to handle himself--after all, it wasn't everyday that you woke up with a blank canvas in your head. She sighed. He remembered--he really did. He had to--otherwise he was doing a very good job at pretending to. She looked over at Johnny Storm, who was busy with Venom; one of the suit's biggest weaknesses was fire, other than sound. He seemed fine. She wanted to help Spider-Man, but she knew that he and Doc Ock had a long history together, and that he had to do this by himself in order to assure himself that he was back.

Was he back?

She listened as they battled each other.

"I hate you!"

"I love you too, Ockie!"

"I'll finally have some peace and quiet once you're dead and buried!"

"You think? If I die I'll haunt you for the rest of eternity--you cannot escape me and my evil wisecracks! Hahah!"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"Ow! Now, did you really have to hit me that hard?"

The Black Cat sighed as she followed up on an assault made by the Chameleon. Spider-Man knew what he was doing, it seemed. Hopefully Nick Fury would be able to shed some light on the situation--but she wouldn't stick around for that. Even after she retired from thieving Fury never trusted that she truly was reformed--and for good reason. The Black Cat never set anything in stone, and if she was a heroine one day, who knew what the next day would bring?

Spider-Man landed with a thump after being whacked in the shoulder with a metal arm. His costume was bloody and torn, yet he moved with such passion it was as if he had never been tired in his life, and that he actually enjoyed what was going on.

Spider-Man did enjoy it. He enjoyed remembering how much he despised Doctor Octavius, and now that he did remember, kicking his sorry ass to Jersey would be a lot more meaningful.

"I'm glad you remember, Web-Slinger! So when I kill you, you'll know exactly how much it'll really mean to me!"

"Oh, shut the hell up! God! I get so freaking tired of you lunatics and you're little speeches! So shut the hell up and let's finish this!"

Spider-Man had forgotten about the other members of the Six. He knew that Johnny and the Black Cat could handle five of them, since he'd handled all six of them by himself in the past. Spider-Man punched his fist into his other hand, staring Doctor Octopus down. He huffed, extremely winded, but ready to leap at a moment's notice. He was ready. He remembered everything. And now that he knew about all Six of these monsters, this was the last place he wanted to be.

Doctor Octopus cursed, screaming out loud as he jumped, ready to tackle Spider-Man, his metal arms flying in the air. Spider-Man smiled under his mask, and Spider-Man waited for the right moment.


	10. All Things Fall

His spider-sense was screaming at him. Literally screaming. There was a giant man with six metal arms flying right towards him, and he stood there, waiting.

Wait for it...

wait for it...

"NOW!"

Spider-Man ducked his head to his knees, rolling onto his back with his feet ready to receive the incoming Doc Ock. Spider-Man kicked out at Octopus's chest, sending him sailing into the air. Spider-Man jumped up to the same height, dodging a metal arm, and pushed down on his shoulders, smashing him into the rooftop. He took a metal arm and wrestled with it until it became entangled with another. He did all this within five seconds, as Octavius tried to regain himself. Ock's power was behind his arms--he was not one who could take a severe blow without needing time to recuperate. He was a scientist, not a wrestler.

"I'm tired of you people always doing this to me! Why can't you all get a hobby or a day job?"

Octopus did not answer, as he attempted to stand. Spider-Man prevented this, kicking him in the side of the head. "No!" He shouted, watching as one of his greatest enemies sank to the floor.He was breathing heavily, his body not being able to take the punches. He simply stared down, watching the blood splatter from his nose.

"You don't know how bad I just want to end this, once and for all! End it so you'll stop harming people! I remember how much pain you've caused me, this city, this world. I remember it all, Octavius!"

Spider-Man relaxed his shoulders and sighed. "I remember that I'm Spider-Man. I remember what it means to _be_ Spider-Man. And I remember that Spider-Man doesn't kill people."

At this, Octavius looked up. Spider-Man then looked at everyone else, who had stopped what they had been doing. Spider-Man felt proud of himself--he showed these murders that he was above them, above killing.

One by one, the various members of the Six fled, all except Doctor Octavius. He stood there, his metal arms all free and vivacious. He looked into the white eyes of Spider-Man's mask.

"I once was an honorable man of science, Spider-Man."

"Yeah. I know you were." Johnny and Black Cat stood behind him now, ready to defend at a moment's notice. But they knew that the fight was over.

"These arms...the power...I made a choice to give up my work, but I still miss it. I know you understand that much." Octopus said. He was aware that Spider-Man had a keen mind himself.

"You made a choice, Octavius. We all make choices. I just made one...now you're going to make one. Life is a series of choices. We just...don't always choose the right ones."

"We are not legends, Spider-Man. We are men. And men have to make choices--"

"And live with them."

He watched as the last member of the Sinister Six faded into the skyline. He wasn't worried; Fury's men would be on their tails in no time. Johnny Storm offered Spider-Man a lift back to the Baxter Building, where Nick Fury would meet to discuss some underlying issues. Spider-Man refused; he just wanted to cuddle in bed with his wife and watch re-runs of Seinfeld...just like he remembered.


	11. Remembering

He almost kicked down the door.

"Mary Jane? _Mary Jane?"_ His voice was frantic--desperate. He had not bothered changing out of his costume. He had not bothered using a window. All he cared about was looking his wife in the eyes.

Mary Jane had been sitting on the couch when Spider-Man entered. She was surrounded by damp, used tissues and she held one in her hand. Her face was tear-stained with bleeding mascara. Her hair was a mess, her pajama pants stained with chocolate ice cream. She had not taken the news well.

"Peter?"

"Mary Jane." he gave a sigh of relief, glad to have found her. "God Mary Jane, I remember. Everything is gonna be okay now, okay? I remember?"

"Just like that?"

Spider-Man sat down on the couch next to her after locking the door. He sat and took off his mask and kissed her. "Mary Jane Watson-Parker. I've loved you ever since I can remember. You're a beautiful actress trying to find her big break. We got married and you're the best wife a superhero could have."

Mary Jane smiled, but said nothing. He understood how she felt; it was too good to be true.

"It just happened, MJ, like, boom! It was so sudden. I came here as soon as I finished with Doc Ock and the rest of the Six. I had to see you--Mary Jane, I remember."

"How? I don't believe it."

"Believe _me,_ MJ." He stood, putting his mask back on, tugging it hard so it fit firmly on his head. "I need to meet with Nick Fury, make sure I haven't gotten hit one too many times in the head by megalomaniacs. When I come back we can finish that tub of chocolate ice cream, lie in bed and watch an episode of Seinfeld we've already seen five or six times over."

Mary Jane's face brightened. "You really do remember."

He bent over and kissed her cheek. "I'll be back. I promise."

Mary Jane watched as her husband leaped out of her living room window what she always left unlocked. She smiled. He was back. It was too good to be true, but he was back. He was back before it even fully sunk in that he was gone.

Mary Jane turned on the news, knowing that coverage of the Sinister Six would be scarce, but widespread. He had faced them with nothing but hope; no plan, no information, nothing but his instinct. And in the midst of the battle, he remembered. Just like that. Mary Jane smiled. That was her Peter.

Mary Jane cleaned up all the tissues that were scattered around the floor. She had made such a mess. She washed her face of her mascara that ran down her face along with her tears and cleaned up. She got dressed, brushed her flowing red hair, and threw out the tub of melted ice cream that she had left on the coffee table.

Even though she had nothing to worry about now, even though he remembered, even though the Sinister Six had been defeated, she still cleaned to keep busy. She needed to keep busy because being the wife of a superhero needed to keep busy, because even though this crisis had been adverted and even though he remembered everything, that did not mean the world was a better place. That did not mean that life would be happy. Danger and evil did not care if you were happy. Mary Jane had learned this. She was thrilled that her husband remembered her, she was so happy that he was back and that he was healthy and alive. But now it was back to square one; where she sat home, trying not to watch the news while her husband put himself in mortal combat.

But she stopped thinking so pessimistically and went through their dusted collection of DVD's. The third season of Seinfeld seemed to almost have been waiting for that night. Mary Jane couldn't wait.


	12. The End

Nick Fury did not like to be kept waiting. So when he sat at the Baxter Building, sipping a disgusting cup of coffee and no Spider-Man showed, he was very angry. He was told that Spider-Man would meet him here. Well, where the hell was he?

Nick Fury looked at the clock. Ten minutes. He was ten minutes late and in their business, ten minutes was a lot of time. Nick Fury did not have ten minutes to waste.

The Fantastic Four were all doing their own things, afraid to enrage Fury even more. They had nothing to say to him, and nothing they wanted to say. Spider-Man was to meet at their building and speak with Nick Fury; they didn't need to get themselves involved in the situation any more than that.

As they anticipated his arrival, Spider-Man entered suddenly, landing with a double-spin flip as he said "ta-da!"

"Wall-Crawler! Where the hell have you been?" Fury said, standing from his chair.

"Save your breath for your inflatable girlfriend, Fury. Let's just get down to it. I remember most of everything. I'm not really sure what I don't remember, but I remember a lot."

"You're speaking in circles, Spider-Man. How did you regain your memory?"

Spider-Man walked over the wall where Fury had been sitting and crouched on it. Nick Fury sat down again, next to him.

"It just came all of a sudden." Spider-Man tried to explain.

"Where were you when it happened?"

"Fighting the Sinister Six. Oh, and, thanks a lot for you help with them." Spider-Man said sarcastically.

Fury ignored his comment. "I'm not sure what else to tell you, Spider-Man. I'm not a doctor, though I highly recommend you see one."

"Are you making a joke about my sanity, or was that an actual concern for my health?"

Fury stood. "No, that was a joke. You need a doctor because you're crazy."

"Since when do you joke?"

Fury flashed him a smile. "Ha. I guess you really do remember, Web-Swinger."

**A/N: The End! Sorry to cut this short. I had this better planned-out in my head. That happens a lot with me :). Thanks to everyone and anyone who reviewed and kept up with the story. I enjoyed writing this, even if it wasn't one of my best works. **


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